


Lay Your Head on the Block

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-28
Updated: 2010-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer wants to get Sam to trust him any way he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Your Head on the Block

Lucifer had left Sam alone since he met up with Dean again, but one night Sam sits up in bed to find Dean gone and Lucifer standing in front of him. “I’m dreaming.”

Lucifer nods.

“Get the fuck out of my head!”

Lucifer smirks at him. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“I’m not going to say yes to you, so you’re wasting your time,” Sam growls. He would leave the motel room, but he’s not sure he can, and anyway Lucifer would just follow him.

“I don’t want you to say yes to me.”

Sam scoffs. “Oh really? After everything, after all your talk about destiny and inevitability you expect me to believe that?”

Lucifer shrugs, looking like it doesn’t matter to him what Sam believes, but he’s disappointed that he’s being so obtuse. “Believe it or not, it’s still true.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “So if you don’t want me to say yes, then what do you want?”

Lucifer gives an enigmatic smile. “You’ll find out.”

Sam wakes up suddenly, to hear Dean tossing in the other bed. There’s light coming in the window and Sam knows he won’t be able to get back to sleep, so he just stares at the ceiling until Dean wakes up.

***

All that day Sam’s preoccupied. He hadn’t told Dean that Lucifer came into his dreams before, knowing how he’d react. There’s no way Lucifer’s given up on his quest to take over the world. It has to be a trick.

That night he’s back, leaning the spindly motel chair back on two legs. “Talk to me, Sam.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Sam spits.

“It doesn’t have to be anything personal or private.”

“Yeah, well, then my whole life is personal and private.”

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, then nods. “Fair enough.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “Why do you even care what I have to say?”

“You intrigue me Sam. I want to know more about you.”

“Yeah, well, wait for the book,” Sam returns before he thinks, and then winces. _Great job stupid, now he might actually get his hands on them._ Sam shudders at the thought.

***

Lucifer keeps coming back and finally Sam starts talking in the faint hope that if Lucifer finds out enough about him he’ll get bored and go away.

He tells him about the first time he went hunting with Dean and Dad, the time he killed his first werewolf. Inconsequential things. Lucifer listens patiently.

Gradually, he starts telling him more personal things. Lucifer learns not to make comments, since Sam shuts up. He tells him how he hated hunting and wanted nothing more than a normal life. He tells him how Dean was the only one who cared that he did well in school, since an “A” on his freshman history test wouldn’t save him from a demon, which was all Dad cared about.

He tells Lucifer about leaving for Stanford. “I…I had to go. I knew Dean would never forgive me, but I couldn’t handle moving all the time, never being able to make friends, to do things everyone else did."

“That’s understandable.”

Sam glares at him. “Shut up.”

He doesn’t tell Lucifer anything else that night, and the next night Lucifer doesn’t make any comments. He tells him about Stanford, how for the first time he had a _normal_ life.

“I had friends, and I enjoyed my classes. Then I met Jess…” He stops, his heart constricting. “I was going to marry her. But no, Azazel had _plans_ for me.”

Lucifer says nothing.

“I was having visions. I _saw_ her die, but I told myself they didn’t mean anything. If I’d just told her...” his voice breaks.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference, Sam. You would just have lost her sooner.”

Sam sighs. He could imagine Jess’ reaction if he’d told her about his life before he met her. “I guess you’re right. Anyway, Dean showed up, looking for Dad, and I went with him. Then Jess died, and there was nothing left for me but revenge.”

Sam tells him about Dean’s reaction to his powers–how much that hurt. How they found Dad again, only for him to sacrifice himself so Dean could live.

“We tracked down some of the children with the demon blood, but Azazel got all of us together in one place to find the strongest. In the end there was only me and one other…” He stops. “And I ended up dead.”

Lucifer says nothing.

“Dean sold his soul to save me. He went to _Hell_ for me! I didn’t deserve that! And that’s what started this whole thing.”

“It’s fate, Sam, you can’t change it,” Lucifer murmurs sympathetically.

Sam glares. “Yeah, well that’s what you think.” He pauses again, collecting his thoughts. “I was fixated on revenge. Even when Dean came back I wanted to kill Lilith for what she did to him.”

“You’ll forgive me for not being sorry for that.”

Abruptly Sam remembers just who it is that he’s been telling all this. “Just…just get the fuck out of here!”

Lucifer does.

***

Sam doesn’t see Lucifer again for a week, and he starts to think that maybe he did get bored, but one day when Dean is out there’s a knock at the door.

It’s not Dean–he’d unlock the door himself. It’s not Cas–he’d just pop in. Sam picks up his gun and puts it on the table by the door, out of sight, but within easy reach.

It’s Lucifer.

“How the fuck did you find us?” Sam blurts out. The sigils on their ribs were supposed to hide them from angels.

Lucifer grimaces. “It wasn’t easy.”

“What do you want?” Sam snaps.

“I want to give you something.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” Sam shoots back, the same thing he’d said before.

“Take it anyway.” And Lucifer presses a band into Sam’s hand.

It’s a collar, made of dark blue leather and carved with Enochian symbols. There’s no sign of any clasp or fastening; the leather just ends.

“Just what the fuck is this supposed to be?”

Lucifer gives another enigmatic smile. “Ask Castiel,” he replies, and disappears.

***

As soon as Lucifer’s gone, Sam calls Dean.

“Yeah?”

“Dean, we need to move,” Sam says quickly. “Lucifer was here.”

“ _What?_ ”

Sam winces, holding the phone away from his ear. “ _Lucifer_ was here,” he repeats.

“How the fuck’d he find us?”

Sam rubs the bridge of his nose, where he feels a headache building. Lucifer knows where they are, they don’t have time for Dean to freak out! “I dunno, but we need to move.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We’re coming back.” _Thank God!_

***

Once they’re on the highway, however, Dean brings it up again. “What did he want?”

“I dunno,” Sam says. He’s not gonna tell Dean about the collar.

“Well did he _say_ anything?” Dean snaps, frustrated.

“No. He just showed up and then left again. Maybe he wanted to intimidate us, prove he could find us.”

“If he can, we’re in trouble.”

Sam nods.

***

That night, when Dean’s asleep, Sam calls Cas over. “You ever seen anything like this?” he asks, handing him the collar.

Cas takes it, and his eyes pop. Sam’s never seen him look quite this stunned. “Where did you get this?!” he demands, and his voice, too, is uncharacteristically sharp.

“You know what it is?”

“It…it binds an angel to the will of the holder,” Cas says slowly, handing it back as if he doesn’t want to touch it.

“Wait…you mean this thing can control angels?” Sam asks, looking at it more closely. It doesn’t look like anything special.

“Yes.”

“So…theoretically it could control Michael?” Sam asks, telling himself it’s too good to be true.

“It is strong enough to bind an archangel, yes,” Cas confirms.

“What about…what about Lucifer?”

Cas looks at him sharply. “Yes. Sam, where did you get this?”

“It’s not important.”

“On the contrary–”

“Just–just drop it, Cas, OK?”

Cas drops it.

***

Despite the fact that they’re 100 miles away from where they were two nights ago and didn’t drive in a straight line, Lucifer finds them again.

He shows up when Dean’s out, appearing in the motel room this time.

Sam nearly has a heart attack. “How the hell did you find us again so quickly?”

Lucifer gestures to the collar, which Sam’s been running his fingers over. “That. I made it, with my Grace, so I can track it.”

“All the more reason to throw it away,” Sam snaps, dropping the collar like it's burned him.

“When you have a chance to get me to stop the Apocalypse?” Lucifer inquires mildly.

“ _Why?_ ” Sam bursts out. “I mean, I could tell you to kill yourself, or go back to Hell and never come back and there’d be nothing you could do about it!”

Lucifer nods.

“Why would you give me that kind of power over you?”

“I want you to trust me, Sam, and it seems like this is the only way.”

“I’ll never trust you!”

Lucifer shrugs. “With this you’re certain to win. Without it you might not. I’m sure Castiel has told you it’s genuine, and even if it’s not, can you afford to take that chance?”

Sam hesitates. Lucifer has enough power to fool Cas, especially now that he’s losing his mojo, but Lucifer’s right. He can’t afford to gamble with the future of the Earth.

He moves toward Lucifer, and puts the collar around his neck. When the ends touch, they fuse, so it’s one solid piece. Lucifer closes his eyes and Sam could swear he hears his breath hitch.

Sam steps back. “Now you have to do anything I tell you to, right?”

Lucifer nods. “Yes.”

“So tell me why you were willing to let me do this. The truth this time.”

Lucifer hesitates, but suddenly flinches as if stung and whispers, “I…I love you.”

Sam _stares_ at him. “You love me,” he repeats flatly.

Lucifer nods.

Sam snorts. He should have known it was too good to be true. “Get the fuck out of here.”

And Lucifer goes.

***

But, thinking about it, he’s not so sure Lucifer was jerking him around. What would be the point? If he’s trying to get Sam to say yes he wouldn’t give him apparent control.

But if he’s _not…_

 _How_ could Lucifer love him? How could he love, _period?_ It was ridiculous.

But he’s noticed something, the past few days. An awareness of something else, fuzzy but there. And sometimes he thinks he hears whispers, just on the threshold of comprehensibility.

He’d never had that before. Not when he was still having visions, not when he was hopped up on demon blood, not when the wraith infected him.

There’s only one thing that could have caused it.

So one day he goes out to a park, a few miles from the motel and nondescript enough that it shouldn’t be readily identifiable, takes hold of that awareness and _pulls._

Immediately Lucifer is standing next to him. “You called me.” He sounds…almost hopeful.

The fact that Lucifer found him so quickly when he didn’t have the collar argues that he was telling the truth, but Sam’s still doubtful. “You’re screwing with me. This is some kind of sick joke.”

“How could I possibly profit from this?”

“I don’t know, but you can’t love me!”

Lucifer looks genuinely puzzled. “Why not?”

Sam growls and buries his face in his hands. “Prove it works.”

“How?”

“Do something you wouldn’t normally do.”

For the first time Lucifer looks faintly suspicious. “Such as?”

“Send the Horsemen back. Call off your lackeys.”

“You ask for a cease fire.”

Sam nods.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

Lucifer nods. “It will take some time to arrange, but I will do so.”

And Sam’s alone in the park.

***

Sam fully expects not to hear from Lucifer again, unless he’s back to his former, “Say yes, we can rule the universe together, Luke it is your destiny” bullshit.

A week later Dean’s talking to Bobby on the phone, and when his brother’s voice starts spiraling up Sam focuses on the conversation.

“ _What?_ …Since when?…no, no, I believe you, but…and there’s _nothing?_ At all?...Uh-huh. OK, well, keep us posted.”

“What’s up?” Sam asks, as Dean hangs up and stares at the phone like it asked him for the chemical formula for hydrochloric acid.

“According to Bobby, all the weird shit that’s been happening, the earthquakes and whole towns suddenly empty and the electric storms are all _gone!_ And Bobby was keeping track of Death, looks like he’s MIA.”

“Huh,” Sam says, trying not to look guilty. “Since when?”

“About a week.”

Crap. Lucifer had kept his word, which means…

“Hey, you OK?”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Dean stares at him, his overprotectiveness obviously coming to the fore. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I think I might have picked up a bug is all.”

If anything, that ratchets it up. “You gonna be OK?”

“Yeah, sure. I just need some sleep.”

***

Sam starts obsessing. It's possible Lucifer is still screwing with him, but why? Why would he put all his plans on hold, make Sam think he could get rid of him for good? It makes no sense. Lucifer's all about the endgame, and this wouldn’t further that.

So he must have been telling the truth.

Which means the devil’s in love with him.

That’s usually when Sam’s brain dissolves into _Why?_ and _How?_ and _What the_ fuck?!

Lucifer gave Sam power over him. He should just tell Lucifer to go back to Hell and never come back.

But he can’t.

Because, the fact of the matter is, Lucifer trusted _him_ enough to _let_ Sam have power over him, and he can’t betray that trust. And, yeah, maybe his priorities are fucked up, but he always knew that.

There’s also the fact that Lucifer still hasn’t told him _why,_ and _that_ question’s gonna eat at him until he gets an answer.

So he goes out again.

***

When Lucifer shows up again, Sam says, “You called off the Horsemen.”

Lucifer nods.

“ _Why?_ ”

Lucifer raises a brow. “You told me to.”

“No, not…I mean why did you…why do you…?”

“Why do I love you?”

Sam winces, hearing it spoken aloud again, but nods.

“You freed me, first of all. Hell is nothing more nor less than a prison, and of course I would be grateful to the one who released me from it.”

Sam nods, cautiously. “But–”

“Once I actually spoke with you I realized how alike we really are. You’re like I was, once.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Clever, with a thirst for knowledge. Stubborn, rebellious, wanting to know the _reasons_ for things. And there’s a core of darkness in you not entirely due to the demon blood.”

Sam scowls, because he wants to deny it but Lucifer’s got him fairly well pegged.

“You’re like I was once. Idealistic, despite everything you’ve been through, always hoping for something better. How could I destroy something so precious?”

“So you fell in love with me,” Sam says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes.”

Sam leans close and runs a hand over the collar. Lucifer’s breath hitches again. “I could do _anything,_ you know. I could kill you, or send you away forever.”

Lucifer swallows, nods. “Yes.”

“Or,” Sam continues, moving his fingers underneath the leather band, “I could make you suck me. I could fuck you. You’d probably even enjoy it.”

Lucifer’s eyes close. “Yes,” he breathes.

Sam shoves him away, nausea rising. “Leave me alone.”

Lucifer gives him an unreadable look before vanishing.

***

And now Sam’s obsessing about _that,_ imagining what it would be like, imagining making Lucifer _pay_ for everything he’s done, and it’s making him sick.

He should just forget this whole thing. The Apocalypse is over, he can ignore how it happened.

Except he can’t.

Dean and Castiel are still sure Lucifer’s up to something. Bobby’s still tracking nonexistent omens.

Cas might suspect the truth, but he hasn’t said anything.

Sam half expects Lucifer to show up again, before remembering that he told him to leave him alone.

He refuses to be disappointed.

***

After more than a month of this Sam finally decides, to hell with it.

Dean and Cas have gone out for a few minutes, and Sam sits on the bed, takes hold of the tie to Lucifer and pulls it.

Lucifer appears, looking suspicious and confused. “Sam?”

“Yeah. Can you slow down the time?”

Lucifer’s brow furrows, but he nods. “Yes.”

Sam glances at the clock on the wall. It’s stopped. He counts to ten, and the thinnest hand moves, counting off a lingering second. Good enough.

“You say you’re in love with me.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrow, but he confirms it. “I am.”

“Do you want me?”

Lucifer’s pupils contract, and he breathes, “I…do.”

“Prove it.”

Lucifer actually looks shocked. “What?”

“On your knees.”

Lucifer drops almost before Sam’s finished speaking, his face between Sam’s legs.

Sam looks at him. “Well?”

Lucifer takes in a shaky breath, and slowly opens Sam’s jeans. Sam presses his lips together as Lucifer takes him out.

When Lucifer sucks him down it’s not hard, or fast, or desperate or any of the things Sam had half-expected. It’s slow, gentle, almost reverent.

Sam lets out a shaky breath as Lucifer licks around him, pulling back to mouth at the head, his hand coming up to play with Sam’s balls.

Sam’s getting hard, and his hips jerk forward a little as Lucifer massages the base with his tongue. He could let him go on, but he doesn’t want to come like this, so with an effort he says, “Stop.”

Lucifer pulls back, looking questioning.

“Strip.” Sam tells him.

Lucifer does, pulling off his jacket and T-shirt, then sitting next to Sam on the bed to remove his boots and socks.

When he takes off his jeans, Sam looks away. After a moment Lucifer murmurs, “Sam?”

He looks over. Lucifer’s lying down, naked except for the collar, and Sam swallows convulsively at the sight.

“Lube.”

There’s suddenly a bottle in Lucifer’s hand.

Sam can’t bring himself to touch Lucifer, so he clears his throat and says, “Open yourself up.”

Lucifer closes his eyes briefly, then he opens the bottle and squeezes some into his palm.

Sam realizes Lucifer probably doesn’t need it, but he’s come this far. He might as well see it through.

When one of Lucifer’s fingers disappears inside him Sam makes a strangled noise. Lucifer looks over and _smirks,_ goddamn him.

Lucifer pulls the finger out and adds a second, moving them back and forth to stretch, his head thrown back, small noises coming from him and Sam _knows_ he’s doing this on purpose.

Lucifer adds a third finger, his hips stutter up, and Sam moans.

After a moment Lucifer pulls his fingers free and nods.

Sam kneels up and nods at the lube again.

He hisses as Lucifer slicks him up, pulling away after only a moment, because he’d promised himself he isn’t going to come yet.

“Turn over.”

Lucifer does, getting up on his knees and Sam slots in behind him, guiding himself inside.

The noise Lucifer makes at that, a high whine almost enough to hurt Sam’s ears, has him pulling out and thrusting back in.

Lucifer’s hotter than a human would be, and still so tight around him Sam figures he’s not going to last long. He slows down, pushing in slowly, pausing, then pulling out again. Lucifer’s hips push back, trying to get him to move faster, but he doesn’t.

Lucifer shifts, bracing his weight on his right hand while his left comes up to stroke… Sam slaps it away. “No!”

Lucifer whimpers and shoves back again, and this time Sam speeds up, slamming into Lucifer over and over, hard, punishing thrusts until he’s emptying inside him and Lucifer’s clenching around him and slumping to the bed.

Sam lies on top of him for a moment, then shifts off. He looks at the clock. Three minutes have gone by.

He should tell Lucifer to get the hell out. Instead he tangles their fingers together and moves closer.


End file.
